


A Leg Up

by Greenie (hidetheteaspoons)



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith, Strike (TV 2017)
Genre: #stumphump, Established Relationship, F/M, Robin has a sekrit kink, Smut, Strike is more than happy to oblige, thigh riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:40:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29950110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hidetheteaspoons/pseuds/Greenie
Summary: More than one revelation is made when Robin tells Strike of her secret desire.
Relationships: Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike
Comments: 5
Kudos: 22





	A Leg Up

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rather niche fic/kink that might not be everyone's cup of tea. But it's been on my mind for a long time, so here we go.

When Robin had _that look_ about her, Strike knew she was over-thinking something. Her lower lip was tucked beneath her teeth and her eyebrows were furrowed slightly. Generally, she was considering the twists and turns of their latest case and how the clues might connect to reveal something they’d missed, or perhaps, a resolution. Every so often, it wasn’t the case that perplexed Robin, but some aspect of their fledgling relationship that Strike had never once given thought to. The inner workings of Robin’s keen mind were a mystery to him and sometimes, he never knew what to expect from her. That’s what he loved most about being with her. 

Rather than hazard a guess, Strike left his inquiry casual and open-ended. “What’s on your mind, Ellacott?” he ventured, hoping that she would share openly with him whatever it was that had her so distracted.

Robin shook her head lightly and her gaze shifted to Strike as he looked at her expectantly, the glimmer of a smirk lighting up his face. “Mmm?” she hummed, once she realized he’d been waiting for her to respond. Her cheeks flushed at the embarrassment of being caught in whatever daydream she’d been lost in at that moment. Strike was even more interested now that he’d noticed her slight embarrassment at being distracted.

“I asked what you were thinking about?” he repeated, his smile growing wider as Robin shifted uncomfortably in her seat. 

“Oh, it’s nothing,” she responded automatically, unable to maintain eye contact with Strike for more than a split second. 

Strike wheeled his chair closer to hers, causing Robin to jump slightly. Sitting across the desk from her, he reached his hand out and gently hooked a finger beneath her chin, urging her to meet his eyes. “Well, that is how I know that it’s everything, so why don’t you tell me what it is that has you so worked up?”

Robin sighed as Striked moved his hand upward to palm her cheek and she covered it with her own. “It’s…” she started. “It’s your leg…”

He leaned back and looked at her confusedly. “Robin, my leg is fine. In fact, not a bit sore today since I’ve been-”

“No, I know,” she interrupted. “It’s not that. It’s...I’ve just...I wonder what it feels like.”

To say he was shocked was an understatement. Strike’s eyebrows immediately flew to his hairline as he was reminded of a previous case the two had worked on together. Realization struck and he hesitated before asking the question he dreaded an answer to. “Robin...are you saying you’re...wondering what it feels like to lose a leg?”

Robin’s head snapped up and she shook it immediately. “Oh, _GOD,_ no!” she cried, now appearing even more distraught than she had earlier. “Oh, like _the_ leg we received? Acromotophilia? Strike…” Robin couldn’t even comprehend how he’d jumped to such a conclusion, but she was too embarrassed to try and put the pieces together. She dropped her head into her hands, ashamed that she’d even attempted to pursue this line of conversation with him. 

“Okay, I’m sorry. Hey…” his voice dropped several octaves as he attempted to get her to look at him once more. “Hey…”

She looked at him once again, her face even pinker than it had been before. “I’ll tell you anything you want. You have to know that by now…”

Robin sniffed and nodded, though was still apprehensive about the line of discussion she was about to open up. “I was...thinking about us and wondered...what it feels like for you, your leg that is. If it’s sensitive, or if certain things hurt, or if...other things feel…better than they did before?”

At this, Strike leaned back in his chair and placed a hand over his mouth, stifling a smile in an effort not to hurt Robin’s feelings. He knew she could be sensitive about things of this nature. But it was no use, a light chuckle escaped his lips before he could stop himself. 

“Cormoran Blue Strike, are you laughing at me?!” she cried in surprise. 

“No, no, Robin. Shh, come here. _Please_ will you come over here to me?” he begged, pulling gently on her hand to urge her around the corner of the desk. 

Begrudgingly, Robin stomped to Strike’s side of the desk and he pulled her down into his lap. He had a way of melting her resolve like no one ever had. Before she knew it, he was nuzzling his face into her neck, tickling the sensitive skin there with his stubble. He had her giggling with delight and her laughter brought a smile to his face. 

As they settled down, Strike grew quiet, though somewhat serious. “Robin, please tell me?” he asked, his enormous green eyes sparkling down at her. Robin felt heat pooling in her belly beneath his gaze and opened her mouth to speak. 

“I wondered about the things I’ve already mentioned but also...what it might feel like if it were...under me…”

Realization clicked and suddenly, Strike understood the cause of her embarrassment, which shouldn’t have been a cause of embarrassment at all. In fact, much to his own surprise, he felt himself growing hard at the thought of what Robin had implied. “Robin,” he swallowed hard. “Am I correct in understanding that you want to ride my thigh?”

He saw her lower lip quiver slightly before she buried her face in his neck, letting out the smallest whimper of frustration. Strike’s hand immediately rose to stroke her hair and he kissed her on the top of her head. “You don’t have to be ashamed, you know. You can tell me what you want, what you like. Even what you don’t like. I _want_ to know those things because I want to make you happy.”

She peeked out at him from beneath her hair, her face flushed. “I know. I just...you thinking that I was into the other thing kind of killed it for me. I just want to know what your leg feels like between mine. It doesn’t have to be _that_ leg. It just...has to be you.”

“Alright. Would you like to find out?” Strike asked, a serious, though loving tone in his voice.

“ _God yes,_ Strike. You have _no_ idea.”

He chuckled and kissed her hair again. “Exactly how long has this been on your mind?”

“ _Years,”_ Robin told him before she realized what she’d said. She clapped a hand over her mouth, then sighed and shrugged. 

“You mean you’ve been thinking about me in that way for…”

“A bloody long time.”

“When you were with...?”

“Yes,” Robin nodded, dropping her eyes to her hands, which were intertwined with Strike’s. He gently squeezed her fingers and she raised her head to meet his eyes once more. “Did you…” Strike cleared his throat, unsure if he should proceed with his line of questioning. _Fuck it._ “Did you think about me?”

“Toward the end, when it got bad. I wished it had been you. I...I imagined it was you,” she whispered, her voice low and hoarse. 

“And when you were alone?” Strike ground out, struggling with the warring feelings of pride and sorrow within his chest. “Then too?”

“Then too,” Robin whispered. They locked eyes for what felt like a beat before Strike leaned forward and pressed a button on his desk phone to call Pat on speaker. When she answered, Strike made his request. “Please cancel the rest of mine and Robin’s appointments today. I have a meeting with a high-priority client this afternoon and won’t be able to see to the others. Please let Hutchins and Barclay know that they have the rest of the day off, as well as you. Fully paid, of course.” 

When he hung up, he was on Robin like fire on petrol. He consumed her, bringing her face toward his and pulling her into a mesmerizing and heated kiss. He pushed against her mouth, his tongue seeking her own, stroking, licking, grazing, tasting every part of her. The sudden revelation that she’d fantasized about him for years lit him up like a match. It started as a flicker, was stoked into a small fire, and suddenly, without warning, a blaze roared between them, hot, and fervent, and _wanting._

He slowed their movements and grasped her face between his palms, resting his forehead against hers. They were both breathing heavily. 

“I want you...Strike, _please_ ,” Robin whispered, ready and willing to do anything to get him out of his trousers.

“I know, me too,” he assured her, uncomfortably adjusting himself beneath her. “Trust me, the feeling is _very, very_ mutual. Robin was assured by the growing bulge beneath his trousers as it brushed against her leg. “Let’s at least wait until we know that everyone’s gone and we won’t be interrupted, yeah? Besides, I think we might be a bit more comfortable upstairs.”

Robin sighed and nodded, knowing that he was right. She pressed one final kiss against his lips before getting up from his lap and returning to her own desk. 

The minutes on the clock ticked by slower than they ever had, and it was nearly an hour before Pat informed them that she’d canceled their appointments and was off to enjoy the remainder of her afternoon.

Strike waited for the slam of the outer office door and the fading away of Pat’s footsteps down the stairs before he stood and reached for Robin’s hand, leading her up to his flat. The tension between them was palpable as they tried not to give in to temptation before locking up the office and heading up the single flight of stairs. However, once the door was closed behind them, Strike immediately pressed Robin against it, his lips finding hers once more. She opened up to him at once and allowed his tongue to plunder her mouth, sucking on his tongue as he delved deeper and deeper.

Robin felt his hardness against her thigh and whimpered, wondering if he had been hard the entire time they were waiting for Pat to leave. She palmed his erection through the front of his trousers and ran her hand up and down his sensitive length. Strike dropped his forehead to her shoulder, unable to stifle a groan of need that ripped from his throat. 

Pressing his lips to her clavicle, Strike worked his way up to her ear, planting kiss after kiss upon her milky skin. When his stubble began to scratch her neck, Robin sighed softly, practically boneless against his front door. If he let go of her now, she’d surely collapse to the floor in a heap. 

Strike murmured her name against her skin reverently as she continued to stroke him through his trousers. He groaned and whispered into her ear, practically begging for her, “Need you...need you so much.”

“I’m aware,” she replied laughing softly. “Suppose you could let me out so I can get to that?” 

“As you wish…” Strike smiled, stepping back and releasing her from his embrace. It took half a second for Robin to lunge at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him with everything she had. Strike made a noise of surprise but didn’t stumble in the slightest. He was tall and solid, like a tree, firmly rooted and perfect for climbing. Still kissing each other, Strike slowly walked Robin back toward the bed and sat her down upon it. 

“Alright, Ellacott,” he ground out huskily. “This is your fantasy...you’re in charge. Tell me what you want.”

At this, a wicked gleam appeared in Robin’s crystal blue eyes, and it suddenly dawned on Strike that he was in for the ride of his life.

“Take off your clothes,” she whispered, not bothering to avert her eyes from the significant prominence at his pelvis. Strike smiled down at her and kissed her chastely. She groaned as the kiss grew more heated and his tongue slipped between her lips. She pulled away from him. “Clothes. Off. Strike.”

He smiled before giving her one last peck and began to undo his belt and the zip of his trousers, which fell to the floor at his feet. He kicked off his shoes and trousers simultaneously, and carefully removed his prosthesis before joining Robin on the bed. He leaned back against the duvet and rested his head on the pillow while she too divulged herself of her own clothes. She stood before him, gloriously bare and glowing. It took everything within him not to pull her down to him and take her fast and hard. He knew that the wait for whatever she had in store for him would be more than worth it, and inhaled sharply as she crawled over to him, sliding first one leg over his hip, then the other. She hugged him tightly between her thighs and grasped his rapidly hardening cock in her warm and ready hand.

He hissed and pressed his head back into the pillow, getting lost in the feel of her grip tightening around his solid length. “ _Fuuuck, Robin,”_ he whispered, hardly resisting the urge to buck his hips up into her fist. 

Strike was thick and veiny already and she’d barely stroked him. He was a ‘shower’ in every sense of the word. His length had never been anything to complain about. If anything, he fit every part of her perfectly - her cunt, her mouth, and right now, her hand. Robin reveled in the feeling of being astride him, his cock in her hand, growing harder by the moment. But tonight wasn’t about him and they both knew it. It was about Robin, and the things she’d always wanted, that her ex-husband never took the time to learn or try and give her. Strike was ready and waiting to give her everything. 

After a few strokes, she leaned down to kiss him deeply and his hands entwined within her rose-gold locks, tightening and pulling, both sensations that Robin could never get enough of. She sighed as she shifted her bum forward until her folds were aligned with his cock, as its leaking tip pressed against his hairy stomach. She ground against him, feeling powerful with him beneath her, at her mercy, trusting her to bring them both pleasure. Robin slid against his cock for a few moments, before Strike grit his teeth and grasped her arm, hissing firmly that he was close. 

Robin scooted back, pressing a kiss to the tip of his cock, soaking up the moisture that had formed there. She swiped her tongue along his abdomen and cleaned him up there as well. Strike groaned at the feel of her tongue against his skin. 

She started to raise her knee to straddle his left thigh, but Strike placed a hand on her hip, stopping her. “I thought you wanted to know about this one?” he asked, gesturing to his right leg.

Robin blushed deep scarlet as she had earlier in the office, before making her confession to Strike. “I...I wasn’t sure if I should…I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Robin…” Strike started, cupping her face between his large palms, “You could never hurt me. If anything, it’s probably going to feel better than it has in a bloody long time.”

“You’re sure you don’t mind?” 

“ _God,_ no. Can’t you see how much I want you?” Strike asked cheekily, looking down at his engorged cock. 

“There’s a very clear difference between wanting me _there,_ ” she replied, pointing to his erection, “And wanting me _here,”_ she replied, placing her hand on his stump.

“I want you any way I can get you,” Strike practically growled, sitting up and pulling her down to him. She was pressed against his soft, hirsute chest and inhaled deeply. “But if I don’t get you soon, I’m going to flip you over and fuck you _my_ way.” Robin felt a shiver dance along her spine, all the way down to the small of her back. Strike then caught her earlobe between his teeth and bit lightly, causing her to cry out to him. 

While still caught in his grasp, Robin swung her left leg over his stump and pressed her heat against his thigh. She hissed in satisfaction as she began to ride him slowly, taking pleasure in the feel of his hairy skin between her legs. She circled her hips against him and sighed. Strike grasped her arse in his hands and followed the movements of her hips. He felt her grow warmer and wetter as she continued to circle against him. 

“ _Fuck_ , Strike,” she moaned as she shifted, and her clit hit at just the right angle to grind against his leg. 

“That as good as you imagined?” He asked, genuinely curious about what she was feeling as she pressed her sweet, wet cunt against his leg. 

“ _Better…”_ she trailed off, unable to find the words. 

“Robin,” Strike murmured as she threw her head back. Her eyes were closed and she was concentrating on the feel of his skin on her clit. His hands fell from her hips and he took himself in hand. He watched her ride him while he slowly pumped his cock, which was still wet from when she'd licked him clean. He could feel her juices begin to run down the sides of his thigh, as she continued to grind against him. 

“It's so good, you feel _so_ good,” Robin told him as he continued to thrust up into his hand. This caused his leg to change their angle slightly, which Robin responded to with low whimpers. The sounds she made went straight to his cock. He reached for her hand and wrapped it around his length, showing her just how much he needed and wanted to be touched by her. 

Strike released a long “ _Fuuuuuck,”_ as Robin’s fist closed around his dick and she stroked him softly at first, the more desperately as she moved harder against him. Pride momentarily bloomed within Strike’s chest, at the beautiful, powerful, sexy woman moving above him. Her breasts moved in time with her hips and her hair cascaded down her shoulders in long, soft waves. Impulsively, Strike reached forward and gently took the back of Robin’s neck, bringing her down for a long, hard kiss. 

She moaned into his mouth as the friction between the two of them continued to build. She was breathing hard and fast between kisses, and Strike’s lips eventually found her neck, kissing down as far as he could go. Robin maintained her rhythm against his thigh, but Strike felt her hand go slack around his cock. “Can’t...do both…” she bit out, and Strike chuckled, pushing her hair out of her face gently. “Don’t worry about me, just focus on you, yeah?” 

“Oh, thank fuck,” Robin mumbled, earning a soft laugh from Strike. At this, Robin fell over top of him and placed her palms on the bed on either side of him. Her arse was pushed out and she rutted against his thigh, her pace now quick and desperate. Her clit was aching and she practically sobbed in anticipation of the release she sought. 

Her orgasm took her quite by surprise; there was no white light, or blast of stars behind her eyes. There was only Strike, and the feel of him against the most sensitive part of her. She slipped into her pleasure like a warm blanket, that started as heat in her center and spread to the rest of her body. Everything went blank. There was only the full-body cry of relief that overtook her as her core detonated against his thigh. She was so wrapped in her own pleasure, that she barely registered Strike’s hand on his cock, stroking himself to his own orgasm only seconds after hers. 

She heard his grunts and groans, and her name intermingled between them. She saw as he came up and over his fist, cum exploding across his abdomen. Unable to hold herself up any longer, Robin collapsed against his chest when he finished. She felt his cum, warm and sticky between their bodies, but was too exhausted to care. She buried her face into his chest, the soft hair there tickling her cheeks. Strike’s fingers played with her hair for a few moments before she sighed and raised her eyes to meet his.

“How was that?” he asked, smiling that lopsided grin that she loved so much. 

“Exhausting!” she laughed, laying her cheek against his chest once more. “But fantastic,” she murmured. “How was it for you?”

“Sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, being ridden by you,” he praised.

Robin felt a surge of pride at his words and placed a kiss between his pecs. “We should get cleaned up.” 

He nodded and they both sat up to head to the shower. Following a quick rinse in Strike’s small shower, the pair curled up together in his bed to rest. Strike’s arm was around her shoulders, holding her close, while her cheek and hand lay nestled against his chest. 

“So...I assume we’re going to try that again at some point?” Strike ventured. 

Robin giggled and nodded. “I bloody hope so!”

“Well, we’re going to need a name for it, I think.”

“I thought it was just called a thigh ride?” She asked, confused. 

“What about shank wank?” Strike suggested.

Robin considered this, then laughed. “Technically shank is...well...the part you don’t have.”

Strike swore, “Bollocks.”

All was quiet between them for a few moments until Robin murmured sleepily against his skin. Strike swore he heard something about ‘stump hump’, followed by the sound of Robin breathing deeply as she fell asleep. He kissed the top of her head and smiled as he whispered his approval, before he too fell fast asleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
